


Avaricious

by everybreathagift



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Hyper Aggression, M/M, Omega Will Graham, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-07-18 08:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16114841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybreathagift/pseuds/everybreathagift
Summary: Sometimes, an omega's heat can trigger a dangerous response in an Alpha. After seven years, Will is going into heat and Hannibal ends up not taking well. The drama queen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first time I've ever written A/B/O so please, be gentle if I've fucked everything up. I don't even really read it but this hit me, I wrote it and now it's here.

Will rolls his neck, trying to ease the tension he's been steadily and successfully ignoring for… well, since he dropped his suppressants over a month ago. Biology is a stubborn bitch, though; he'd felt the itch of his heat practically the day after his last dose. 

Can't have encephalitis and take suppressants, apparently. Antibiotics and suppressants don’t mix. Otherwise, he wouldn't be worried about it.

He hasn't had a heat in nearly 7 years, but it's not exactly something you forget. ‘Hell’ seems like an okay descriptor. Supposedly, it's better with a mate. A strong, experienced Alpha that can sate and nurture as needed.

_ Like Hannibal. _

Will ignores the treacherous thought, that of course would come to him now, as he's walking into Hannibal’s office. The entire reason for the visit is to explain that he'll be out of commission for next week's session, if his internal clock is still functioning correctly. Anywhere in the next eight to ten days, give or take.  

Hannibal  _ is _ everything desirable in a mate, however. He’s everything that Will isn’t, which is exactly why Will has actively tried to distance himself. He’s not  _ in love _ or anything, but that’s not to say he doesn’t think about Hannibal at random points throughout the day. Those ridiculous suits.   
  
And he’s not  _ really  _ Will’s psychiatrist. Just a friend that has intrusive conversations sometimes. A friend. Friends.

Hannibal does look really nice in those ridiculous suits....

Distance, that’s what Will is planning to work on. Because Hannibal is another realm of unreachable and Will doesn’t need another reminder of his inability to attract people. He should’ve been born… well, something that isn’t omegan. He’s horrible at it. None of the natural allure that omegas are supposed to exude. Very little need to submit.

Before Will can knock he hears a glass shatter from the other side and suddenly, the door is swung open.

“Will?”

Instinctively, he takes a step back, something in him already trying to submit (he said very little, not non-existent) to the seemingly angry Alpha in front of him.

He notices Hannibal’s hand, dripping blood. “What happened?” That same part of him makes him step forward again, biology pushing him to soothe the injury on someone his body sees (foolishly) as a potential mate.

Hannibal is looking around the empty waiting room behind Will. “Are you alone?”

“Yes, why?” Will asks, confused.

Hannibal’s nostrils flare and whatever scent he finds sends a rush of unbidden  _ Alpha _ to Will’s nose, and he bites his lip in response.  Realization hits him and he blushes.

“Sorry, I didn't think I smelled so strongly already. That's why I'm here, though. To tell you I wouldn't make it next week.”

Hannibal’s pupils dilate and he steps out of the door way, closer to Will. “You're going into heat.”

“Yeah. I- it's been a long time, guess that's why it's so thick.”

But Will has seen Alphas reacting to unmated Omegas in heat. They get all huffy, sure, but they don't become mindless zombies or rage machines. They can still control themselves.

Hannibal, though, he looks ready to tear into something.  Like he wants to advance and stake his claim.

“No, I-,” Hannibal starts, then swallows harshly. “Forgive me, Will, I need you to leave.”

Will feels the sting of rejection, the small thing screaming inside for affection cowering in the corner. It wants to bear its neck and beg Hannibal to reconsider.

Will, on the other hand, is shocked. And a little pissed off. “Don't have to tell me twice.”

He spins around and shoves his hands in his pockets, making a beeline for the door, ignoring Hannibal’s stuttered protest behind him.

 

*~~~~~*

 

Hours later, Will is still reeling from the interaction at Hannibal’s office. He really shouldn’t be drinking while taking his antibiotics, but between the twitchiness from his oncoming heat and what happened earlier, he needed the edge taken off.

He’s had time to stew, which just means he’s downright angry at Hannibal now. Sure, he might have interpreted Hannibal’s look as hungry but now he’s wondering if it was revulsion. He’s heard of Alphas that refuse to be with omegas, thinking themselves above the omegan nature. They tend to partner with other Alphas.

Will would have never pegged Hannibal for a bigot, but a touch of hurt quickly turns to anger which quickly becomes irrational anger. The kind that lets you convince yourself of all sorts of things, pick apart past behaviors and justify an unreasonable conclusion.

That’s to say, by seven in the evening, Hannibal is a hateful bigot and Will can’t believe he ever found him desirable in the first place. Even though in the back of his mind, he’s knows it’s not true and there  _ has _ to be a logical reason for Hannibal’s reaction to Will’s heat.

Just as Will is about to pour himself another drink, there’s a knock at his door and he doesn’t even have to look, he knows it’s Hannibal. There’s no one else it could be.

He doesn’t answer it immediately, trying to mentally prepare himself beforehand so he doesn’t swing open the door and punch him in his jaw. Will is a bit tipsy and his fight response is a hair trigger anyway.

Hand on the knob, he takes a calming breath and opens the door. He’s not expecting to see Alana on the other side, standing next to Hannibal.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Will says, watching Hannibal physically respond to his scent by closing his eyes and rolling his neck. Will’s pissed all over again. “If I’m that repugnant, Hannibal, you’re certainly not going to want to come in.”

Hannibal opens his eyes and swallows, frowning but he doesn’t speak.

“He does,” Alana interjects, touching Will’s forearm gently. “We do. Please, Will. There’s an explanation.”

Reluctantly, Will steps back and opens the door, simultaneously shooing the dogs back to their beds.

He can’t take his eyes off of Hannibal. The way he almost seems restless, shoving his hands - he can see a freshly stitched cut on Hannibal’s right palm - into his pockets only to remove them again and clasp them behind his back.. For a man that’s almost inhumanely still most of the time, the slight change is jarring.

Hannibal stands in the middle of Will’s living room, looking fidgety, while Alana takes a seat in one of the armchairs. Will is getting impatient, and hates the silence.

“Alright, what the hell is going on?”

“Your scent isn’t repugnant,” Hannibal says, like it’s enough of an explanation.

“Okay,” Will replies slowly.

“Will, have you ever heard of hyper aggression?” Alana asks.

“Yeah,” he answers, combing a hand through his hair. “We’ve seen it used as a murder defense a few times. The science supports it but we haven’t seen it enough- wait. Wait.”

Will’s brain finally decides to catch up to the conversation. Hyper aggression, a response in Alphas triggered by an Omegan heat, or, less frequently, a last ditch effort of biology to mate a pre-menopausal Omega. A very rare condition that’s only ‘cured’ by mating with the Omega that triggered it, and even after, the Alpha still experiences a higher level of possessiveness than what is considered normal.

“Are you saying-”

“Yes,” Hannibal answers immediately, staring at Will intensely.

Will is pretty sure every single one of his natural responses have gone offline.

“Hannibal called me as soon as you left his office,” Alana says, standing back up. “He was concerned, as you can imagine. And confused but… the symptoms are pretty standard, Will. There’s very little room for doubt.”

“I can’t believe this,” Will mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Hyper aggression. His heat triggered hyper aggression in  _ Hannibal _ fucking  _ Lecter .  _ The most controlled, stoic man he’s ever met. What kind of reality is this?

“It’s not something he did on purpose,” Alana explains gently, stepping in close and grabbing Will’s hand.

He hears a sharp intake of breath from Hannibal, watches as his jaw ticks. “Alana, please,” Hannibal murmurs, voice nearing the edge of dark.

“Sorry,” Alana whispers, stepping back.

She was touching Will. She was close to the object of Hannibal’s literal torment, and it made Hannibal  _ angry _ . Will is now positive his brain has shut down.

“Will,” Hannibal says a moment later. “I want you to know how deeply sorry I am. It was… out of my control. It hit me before I laid eyes on you today. The moment I smelled you, everything in me seized. I shattered the glass I was holding from the force of it. It’s not-” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “I did not do this on purpose.”

That wakes Will up a little because  _ of course _ he didn’t. No one would choose to feel the way Hannibal must be feeling now. And especially because it’s permanent, unless they bond which Will knows is not something Hannibal ever had interest in, surely.

He feels altogether terrible for his previously stated anger. Instinctively, he steps past Alana and almost reaches out to touch Hannibal’s face, soothe the worried look away, before he thinks better of it and crosses his arms instead.

“Hey, I know you didn’t. I’m not upset with you, Hannibal, Jesus.  _ I ’m _ sorry. If I wouldn’t have gotten sick, I would’ve never stopped my suppressants. This would’ve never happened.”

“Please, don’t apologize for an illness. This was beyond both of our control.”

Everyone falls silent then. The dogs are sniffing around their feet and Will’s just trying to keep himself up right. What the hell do they do now?

Alana clears her throat. “Will, Hannibal and I both think it’s best if you two aren’t alone together for awhile. Until… well, until this is figured out. In case…”

Will swallows hard. In case Hannibal snaps and forces a bond. In case he-

“That would  _ never  _ happen,” Hannibal growls, moving closer to Will. “I wouldn’t allow it. I’d cage myself first.”

“Alright, it’s okay,” Alana soothes, trying her hardest to cover her fear but Will sees it anyway. Hannibal is intimidating enough when he’s  _ not _ suffering from an overactive temper. “I wasn’t implying you’d intentionally hurt him, Hannibal.”

“I wouldn’t, intentionally or otherwise,” he says, definitively.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Will agrees softly, taking Hannibal’s hand. His heart aches for the man in front of him. His friend, who would never do anything to hurt him. Who drove him home from the hospital and stayed the night in the recliner simply because Will didn’t want to be alone. Who listens to Will’s insanity and never even blinks.

A man who must be quickly losing his mind in his current state.

Will takes a deep breath. “There’s really nothing to figure out, though, is there? There’s only one way to fix this.”

Alana shakes her head. “There may be supplements, medications that we can-”

“Medications that will neuter him,” Will interjects, feeling protective. “Make him a brainless, docile meat sack. Absolutely not.” Hannibal grips his hand tighter. “The only way to fix this is… is for us to bond.” 

“No,” they both respond at the same time but it’s Hannibal’s insistence that makes Will feel that gut-punch of rejection again.

He eases himself away. “You’d rather stay this way than to bond with me?” He can’t help how small his voice sounds.

Hannibal looks at him, stricken, face drawn and his shoulders tight. “That is not the case at all, Will. I won’t take your entire life simply to lessen my pain.”

“What?” Will asks, confused. Alana slips out of view, silently excusing herself to the kitchen.

“I cannot expect this of you. It’s a fault in my biology, not yours, and you shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”

“Bonding with you would be torture?”

“If you’ve no interest in me, yes. You’d grow to resent me, and only that due to the bond making you incapable of truly despising me. I couldn’t bear you feeling trapped, which is exactly what it would be.”

Will feels a warmth blooming in his chest, a bright and fiery thing brought on by Hannibal’s blatant care. His knees feel weak and his stomach in his throat. It wasn’t twelve hours ago he was thinking of Hannibal and his potential as a mate, and now it’s at his fingertips. Selfishly, he thanks the aforementioned fault in Hannibal’s biology.

“I don’t- I wouldn’t feel trapped,” he murmurs, shivering as he steps in close, watching the way Hannibal’s throat works around a harsh swallow. Will feels warm all over now. “I really wouldn’t.”

Hannibal releases a slow breath and Will sees his fists clench repeatedly. “We can revisit this conversation after your heat passes.”

That warmth quickly dissipates as he realizes Hannibal’s meaning. “You don’t trust me right now.”

Hannibal touches his cheek, looking distraught. “Your body is currently crying out for a mate. An Alpha to help you through what will most likely be a very difficult heat due to your use of suppressants for so long. There’s absolutely no way for us to know if you truly see potential in me, or if it’s your body betraying you.”

“And if I told you I  _ saw potential _ well before I stopped my pills?”

Hannibal licks his lips, visibly forcing himself to put distance between them. “I’m sorry, Will. Your happiness is not something I’m willing to risk for my own wants.”

“So, I don’t get a say in this at all. Even if I’m telling you I want this.”

“Will,” Hannibal sighs, clenching his jaw. “You can’t possibly understand how difficult it is to deny you anything right now.”

Will presses his lips together, not wanting to make anything harder on Hannibal at the moment. Though the term is ‘hyper aggression’, that isn’t entirely accurate. It’s an exaggeration of every single emotion in regards to the omega that triggered it. A sickening desperation to protect, to fulfill, to provide comfort and joy. To claim and own, mentally, emotionally. Sexually.

Will blushes.

“Moreso when you blush,” Hannibal continues through gritted teeth, eyes shut tightly. “Please.”

“Sorry,” Will whispers, scrubbing his hands over his face again and taking a deep breath. “Alright, let me ask you something. Were you interested in me before all this?”

In the short moment it takes Hannibal to answer, Will’s heart rate spikes and his hands start to tremble.

“You’ve had my full interest from the first moment I saw you.”

Mentally, Will is giving himself a nice, solid ass-kicking. They could’ve been something this whole time possibly. Maybe if Will had the balls to speak up before.

“Really?” He sounds winded. Feels it, too. “Yet you won’t listen when I tell you I’ve felt the same?”

“I can’t, Will,” Hannibal says, looking pained again. “Once your heat passes. Once your biology isn’t actively working to sabotage you.”

Will shakes his head and sighs, taking a step back. Hannibal looks like he’s struggling to stay where he is. Like he wants to close the short distance Will just created.

“I could take advantage of this, you know,” Will remarks. “I could just, take what I want from you. Or rather, persuade you to give it to me.” 

“You could, but you won’t. That’s not who you are.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Will mutters, even though it’s mostly true. “So, what do you plan to do in the meantime then? Suffer like this for another two weeks and hope you don’t snap?”

“Essentially.”

“This is ridiculous, Hannibal.”

“It isn’t to me,” he responds, looking soft but determined. “If, when your heat passes, you still want to pursue this, it will be my greatest pleasure to see where it will lead. And if not, we'll explore other avenues.”

“Fine, but my answer isn't going to change.”

Hannibal smiles, bowing his head. “If fate should have us.” He turns serious again. “I know that what Alana said about us keeping distance is logical but I'm not certain I'll be able to stay away. It's… the closest thing to a compulsion I've ever felt.”

“What?”

“Remaining in your presence,” he explains, stealing Will’s breath again. “These past few hours felt as though I was missing a vital organ, and when you opened your door, I felt like I could breathe again.”

“Oh,” Will says, dumbstruck. “Well.”

“I don't mean to frighten you,” Hannibal replies softly, reaching out to cup Will’s cheek for the briefest moment before dropping his hand again.

“I'm not scared,” Will answers, throwing all reason to the wind and pressing close, placing his hand on Hannibal’s hip. He looks up at him, wondering if Hannibal can feel how fast his heart is beating. “What's the worst that could happen?”

Hannibal inhales sharply, gripping Will’s bicep. “I envisioned tearing Alana’s throat out less than twenty minutes ago, simply because she touched you.” He closes his eyes, skimming his lips over Will’s cheekbone. “Right now, I'm fighting the very strong urge to forcibly carry you to the nearest surface and do every _imaginable_ thing- Will… please, back up.”

Will groans but does as he's asked, idly grimacing over the fact that Alana’s imagined death didn't affect him nearly as much as the latter part of Hannibal’s fantasy. Will collapses into his chair as Hannibal backs up to the wall behind him, hands safely in his pockets once more.

“Alright. I'll keep my distance,” Will promises begrudgingly. “But you'll probably have to leave this side of the country if you want me to avoid you during my heat now. My self-control is questionable under the best of circumstances.”

“I… I'm concerned about your heat, as well. About the… response it will evoke in me.”

Alana clears her throat from the doorway and they both look to her. Will is grateful she didn't decide to step back in a minute earlier. 

“Hannibal, if you'd like to stay, I'm sure Will wouldn't mind me taking the guest room upstairs.”

Will’s eyebrow rises. “You really have no intention of letting us alone, do you?”

She smiles sheepishly. “Not until I hear a definitive plan, be it bonding or something else.”

“Thank you, Alana,” Hannibal says genuinely, clearly concerned about what he could be capable of now. “We can go.”

Will steps out onto the porch with them, half wishing Hannibal would change his mind and turn back around. His heart falters when Hannibal does just that, looking up at him from the bottom stair.

“I've no right to ask this but it would appear I'm going to anyway. Could you please refrain from seeing… well, anyone else for the time being? I understand how unreasonable that is, believe me.”

“Hannibal, I have classes the next three days.”

Hannibal releases a slow breath, and Alana rubs his back in a soothing gesture. “Of course. Forgive me.”

Will feels a strange sort of panic as they turn to leave again, a constricting grip around his heart. “You could- could come by, though. After class. To… to check on me or see me, or whatever.”

Hannibal looks at him, soft and gentle, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Alana cuts him off. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?” Will asks, defensively. He has to remind himself that she is only trying to help.

“A student tells you that he loves your teaching style and Hannibal snaps his neck. That's why.”

“I think you're being a bit dra-”

“She's right, Will,” Hannibal sighs. “It's entirely plausible. There's no way for me to explain to you how this feels.”

Will releases a heavy breath and nods. There’s no response he can give that Hannibal won’t shut down immediately.

He promises Will that he'll be in touch soon and Will stands on the porch until the taillights disappear from sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters? In a week? WHO AM I?! 
> 
> Full disclosure, literally nothing happens in this chapter. I had plans but these two idiots wouldn't shut the fuck up so, here we are. That's why the chapter count went from 3 to 4. Blame them. Also, I couldn't remember exactly the drive time from Will's house to Hannibal's so I just sort of guessed, forgive me if it's wrong.
> 
> Not beta-ed, sorry for any mistakes.

Hannibal didn’t take Alana’s advice.    
  
Will sees him enter the classroom about ten minutes before the lecture ends. The way he looks at Will is not at all appropriate for public. In a charcoal and red plaid suit, he looks horribly out of place against the dressed down students and even Will himself but, Christ, he is beautiful. 

Will can’t believe his luck. 

So, yeah, Will is feeling significantly less guilty than he did last night. He’s pretty goddamned happy, if he’s being totally honest. There’s only one way this is gonna end, and in the meantime, he gets to have a little fun. What’s to be sad about?    
  
Will has never claimed to be a good person. 

Hannibal spends those ten minutes watching Will, utterly still, hardly even blinking. Will’s never struggled with concentrating so much in his life but he manages to finish the lecture and dismiss everyone. 

As his students are gathering their things and exiting, he watches Hannibal walk toward him, hoping he can’t see how hard Will swallows at the sight. 

“Hello, Will.” 

“Hey,” Will breathes, sitting on the edge of his desk. There’s an odd feeling in his limbs and heart, something akin to relief, that he doesn’t quite understand. “How are you?”    
  
“Much better now,” Hannibal says, stepping even closer and still holding Will’s eyes. “It was… a difficult night.”    
  
“I know what you mean.”    
  
“I assure you, you don’t. I spent nearly three hours in my car, refusing to listen to every instinct that suggested going back to your home.”    
  
And there it is. The proof that Will is absolutely not a good person. A good person would apologize, would feel bad that Hannibal was tormented with need that he couldn’t fulfill, would offer sympathy. 

A good person would not cross their arms, bite their lip and murmur, “You could’ve. I was up.”    
  
Hannibal finally breaks eye contact, looking down at his shoes as he takes a slow, deep breath, putting his hands in his pockets. Then, he looks around the room at the few lingering students, before finally looking back at Will.

“Is this your intention, then? To make the upcoming days as difficult as possible?”    
  
He doesn’t sound accusatory, doesn’t even sound upset. He sounds intrigued. Curious. All the things he shouldn’t sound if he had any chance of Will truly respecting his wish for space. 

“It doesn’t have to be difficult,” Will says, looking up at Hannibal plainly. “It could be very simple.” 

“Will, I-” 

“Mr. Graham.” One of his students is standing next to them, fidgeting and clearly uncomfortable with intruding. “Sorry, um, I just wanted to ask if you’ve decided on a due date for the um- you know the-”    
  
Hannibal is staring at her so intensely, she’s clearly lost her train of thought. He doesn’t exactly look angry but he certainly doesn’t look welcoming either. 

Will takes pity on her, trying not to smile. “The 20th will be fine, Irina.” 

“Thank you, sir,” she mutters and leaves in a flash. Hannibal stares at her back until she’s entirely out of the room. 

He releases a quick breath when he finally looks to Will again. “You’re enjoying this.”    
  
“I’d apologize but it’d be bullshit,” Will admits, shrugging. “You looked at her like she committed a heinous crime.” 

Hannibal’s jaw ticks. “She was too close.”    
  
“Beverly hugged me this morning when I brought her coffee.” 

Hannibal steps even closer, standing between Will’s open legs and looking down at him. “You shouldn’t push me, Will. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”    
  
Will grins, putting his hand on Hannibal’s waist. “I’m sure you’re capable of great atrocities, but I’m not worried. You wouldn’t hurt her, simply because I don’t want you to.” He licks his lips and looks up at Hannibal from under his lashes. “Right?” 

In one fluid, quick motion, Hannibal goes from standing still, to gripping Will’s thigh hard enough to hurt and his lips on Will’s, a growl rumbling from his chest. Just as quickly, though, before Will can even register shock or pleasure, Hannibal has ripped himself back and is now a good five feet away, panting and looking pained. 

“I don’t know why you’re fighting this so hard,” Will whispers, feeling his cock thicken between his legs, catching on about fifteen seconds late. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I told you my answer isn’t going to change.”    
  
“I can already smell your heat,” Hannibal says, closing his eyes and tilting his head for a moment. “It’s stronger now than it was less than twenty-four hours ago. You have five days, at best.”    
  
“And you’d rather I go through it alone?” Will exclaims, standing up and walking toward to Hannibal. “You’d have me suffer through it by myself?”    
  
He’s not above manipulation and besides, it’s a fair question. Will doesn’t want to go through his heat alone. It’s a terrible experience. He wants to know why so many mated omegas look forward to their heats, because he can’t even fathom it being enjoyable. He shouldn’t have to go through it alone, damn it. Not now.    
  
Hannibal holds his hand out, silently asking Will not to come any closer. When Will stops, he sighs. “Of course, I don’t want you to go through it alone, darling. Especially now. If the cards fall in my favor, you’ll welcome me there for your next cycle. But it can’t be this one.”    
  
Suddenly, the game isn’t fun anymore. 

“Okay,” Will nods and goes back to his desk. “I gotta get home. The dogs’ll be hungry.” 

“Will, please, don’t-”    
  
“I’ll let you know when my heat has passed.” 

He starts packing up his things, pointedly ignoring Hannibal. When he hears the door close a moment later, he falls into his chair and scrubs his hands over his face. Maybe that was petty, but Will doesn’t care. Mostly because he knows he’s gonna end up calling Hannibal and apologizing in a few hours anyway. 

 

~****~

 

Except that Will doesn’t have to call, because when he pulls into his driveway an hour and a half later, Hannibal is already there, standing on his front porch. 

“It would seem there is something far worse than the thought of you being in close proximity to others,” Hannibal says as Will walks up. 

  
“What’s that?” 

“You being angry with me,” Hannibal explains, taking Will’s hand as soon as he’s close enough. “You sending me away. That’s not something- if you truly wish to bond right now, we will. But I beg of you, don’t send me away again. Please, Will.” 

Will is pretty sure he’s never felt so small in his entire life. Mega asshole move. He definitely doesn’t want to bond this way. Not like this. 

Will grips his hand tighter, fighting the urge to just wrap his arms around Hannibal’s neck and kiss him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that to you. I won’t do it again. And we can wait until my heat passes. I don’t want to force a bond on you, Hannibal. But maybe we could-” 

  
“Anything. Whatever you’d like.”    
  
Will smiles, blushing over Hannibal’s open devotion. “I was going to say spend time together between now and then. Without it driving you crazy. I feel like I know nothing about you. I mean, not anything that matters.”    
  
Hannibal swallows and looks down at their joined hands. “As long as I can bear it. I’m just not sure how long that might be.”    
  
“If I promise not to torment you?”    
  
“It’d be a lie,” Hannibal says with a fond smile.    
  
Will clears his throat and chuckles. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I can’t help it. It’s nice being… wanted. For once.”    
  
“Not wanted,” Hannibal corrects, pulling Will to him. “ _ Craved. _ A desire so strong, I can barely breathe for it. It's been the only thought in my mind since this started.”    
  
Will groans and drops his forehead to Hannibal’s chest. “Are you  _ wanting _ me to torment you? Because this is how you get it.”    
  
He can hear Hannibal’s smile. “Under any other circumstances, my answer would be a resounding yes. As it is…” Gently, he pushes Will back, putting some distance between them.

“Okay, but now I'm curious. If I… asked you to take me somewhere?”

“Any place you wish to go.”

“Buy me a car?”

“Only one?”

“Buy me a house?”

“Purchase or build? Building opens up a wider range of options.”

Will breathes a laugh, shaking his head as he turns to unlock his door.  “We gotta get you fixed up soon. My moral compass doesn't always sit on north, you know.”

“I'm not entirely sure how to break this news to you,” Hannibal says, clearly amused, “but that aspect of my personality has very little to do with this new condition. I would've given you all those things a week ago.” 

“Of course,” Will mutters, covering his blush as he greets the anxious dogs. After getting them calm enough, he turns around to see Hannibal still on the porch. “You're not coming in?”

“I don't think that's wise.” 

“But you don't look like you want to leave either.”

“It's an impossible situation.”

“Would I sway your decision at all by telling you I really don't want you to leave?” 

Hannibal closes his eyes, swallowing for a moment before he says, “you said you wouldn't torment me.”

“I meant I wouldn't grab your cock and beg you to fuck me, not that I wouldn't ask for your company.”

A growl rumbles from Hannibal's chest and he grips the door frame with both hands, like he's physically holding himself outside. “That… is precisely why I'm not coming in, Will. You wouldn't have to beg. You might not even have to ask at all.”

Will is a  _ terrible _ person. He's terrible because he's getting hard and he's imagining all the ways he could absolutely destroy Hannibal’s resolve. How fun it would be to watch the man in front of him finally give in. 

“Have you  _ ever _ let go of that perfect self-control?”

Hannibal bares his teeth quickly, practically snarling in a way that is far too arousing for Will’s own good, and Will hears the wood creak and whine under Hannibal’s grip. 

“ _ Will _ . Please. Do not push this. I'm on the brink of madness as it is. I cannot-” 

“Okay, alright,” Will soothes, instinctively stepping back toward Hannibal before thinking better of it and staying put. “This is… shitty. I want to touch you right now. Wrap my arms around you. Kiss you. It's not even about sex.”

It's not a  _ total _ lie. 

Hannibal doesn't speak for what feels like minutes. He just closes his eyes and breathes deeply, until he slowly releases the door frame and stands straight again. 

Will feels his heart stutter as Hannibal takes slow, measured steps toward him. In the second it takes Hannibal to reach him, thoughts of how incredibly insane this all is flood his mind. 

They know one another, of course. Hannibal likes the opera, and fine wine and even finer foods. He's a culinary genius and he has probably more than one dark secret hidden behind many walls and locked doors. He's eccentric and intelligent. He treats Will like a person with agency, separate from his nature and empathy disorder. 

But what's his favorite color? His favorite movie? Does he even enjoy movies? Where did he go to school when he was fifteen? How many languages does he know? Does he hate animals or does he just not own any? Has he ever even considered bonding with anyone? Did he ever truly consider Will before this, or was he just curious? 

Will barely knows him. 

But then Hannibal’s lips are on his and suddenly, Will doesn't really care about any of those things anymore. 

Hannibal’s mouth is soft, gentle, his tongue easing Will’s lips apart. His hands, one on Will’s neck and the other on his waist, are large and warm. God, he smells good. 

Will has never,  _ never _ been kissed like this and he has to remind himself to participate so he grips Hannibal’s shoulders and tilts his head. The moan he feels on his lips is a reward all by itself. 

Hannibal pulls him even closer, sucking on Will’s bottom lip until Will’s knees start to give. 

“Hannibal,” Will breathes into the kiss, cock thick between his legs. “Please…”

The sharp sting of Hannibal’s nails in the skin of his neck makes Will groan and grind against him, shivering at the feel of Hannibal’s equal arousal.

And then it's over. 

He's still being held in place but at arm's length. Hannibal’s eyes are closed and his brow is furrowed, panting softly. 

“I want you so terribly, Will.”

Will doesn't say anything, he promised he wouldn't make it worse but  _ fuck _ , it's a struggle. Hannibal looks ready to break, like Will could ask just one more time and he'd give in. Will would probably spend forever feeling like shit, though. 

So, Will does the right thing, even though his cock heavily disagrees with the decision. 

“Soon,” he whispers, gently pulling Hannibal's hands from him. “A few more days, that's all.” 

After another harsh swallow, Hannibal finally opens his eyes, breathing steady once more. He looks drugged, pupils blown and a slight tremor in his hands but he's so goddamned beautiful, Will could cry for it. 

Fuck it. They'll have the rest of their lives to learn each other. This was basically nature's way of saying they were fated, anyway. They'll be fine. No, they're gonna be great. Will would be a liar if he said he didn't already feel strongly for Hannibal even before this. 

“Thank you,” Hannibal says. He doesn't have to explain why. 

“Not sure how much more generosity I have in me, though. Just a warning.”

“You wanted to kiss me. I would not deny you if I had the ability.” 

Yeah, Will’s insides turn to mush and being doted on like this? Forever? That's going to be okay, too.

Hannibal stays while Will feeds the dogs, and after when they're roaming, he and Will walk the property together. It's not cold yet but the nights are chilly, and when Will shivers, Hannibal pulls him close almost instantly. 

It only lasts for a few moments because Hannibal finds himself nosing at Will’s neck, practically purring. “You smell divine.”

Of course, that's one of Will’s most sensitive areas. 

“Hannibal,” he whispers, almost tripping on a branch as he trembles. “Uh. That generosity I spoke of…”

They walk back to the house nearly five feet apart. Hannibal keeps his hands in his pockets, and looks pretty annoyed the entire time. Well, as much as Hannibal ever does, which is practically not at all. 

“I know you and I have rarely touched on my childhood, or any facet of my life, really,” he says as they walk back inside. “One day, I'll share it all with you. When I'm able to… organize my thoughts.”

“You mean when you can think about something  _ other _ than mounting me?”

Hannibal sets his jaw. “Precisely.”

Will gives him a small grin. “It's alright. We'll learn all of each other's secrets soon enough.” Hannibal nods but doesn't reply. “Did you- would you like to spend the night?”

“Like to? More than I can express with words, but I shouldn't. I can't. Regrettably.”

Will figured as much but he had to ask anyway. 

“I don't want you spending another night in your car, Hannibal.”

His soon-to-be Alpha sighs.  “Neither do I. Perhaps I could… video call you, once I'm home. I understand how that sounds but-”

“We can,” Will says definitively. “Watching me sleep is only a little creepy, I promise.”

Hannibal smiles a bit, bowing his head. “As long as it's not entirely creepy, I suppose.” 

As Will walks him to the door, he wonders if there's a reaction from the hyper aggression in the omega, because suddenly, he desperately wants him to stay. He feels something like fear grip him, and he has to force himself to even turn the knob. 

“I will call you the moment I arrive.” 

Will swallows and tries to shake the feeling in his limbs. “Please. And be- hurry but, please be careful, too.” 

Hannibal gives him that soft adoring look again. “I want to kiss you but I'm afraid I'll never leave then.” 

Will really can't bear the thought of him  _ not _ kissing him before he goes so he says, “just a small one?”

Hannibal releases a heavy breath. “I will  _ never _ be able to deny you a thing.”

Except there  _ has _ to be an omegan reaction because the moment Hannibal leans in, Will pushes him against the door frame, kissing him hard. 

Everything in his body is screaming to mate. To be taken. To bear his neck and offer himself to his Alpha. He needs to be mounted and claimed and _ fucked. _

“Don't leave,” he begs against Hannibal's lips, groaning at how tight he's being held. “Stay. Stay and take me to bed, please…”

“ _ Will,  _ oh…” Hannibal bites his way down Will’s jaw line, pressing his hips to Will’s with delicious pressure. “Stop me. I can't…”

Will whimpers but the desperate tone of Hannibal's plea clears his mind a little. Slowly, agonizingly, he slows their movements, panting heavily as he pulls Hannibal's hand away from his belt. 

“We have to stop,” he says, trying to sound strong but feeling anything but. “Hannibal.”

Hannibal  _ growls _ and sets his teeth against the thin flesh of Will’s neck, and that's when Will’s brain short circuits for a moment. 

“Hannibal, stop,” he says with more force, shoving against Hannibal's broad chest.

Hannibal's back hits the door frame hard enough to roll his shoulders forward, and he's breathing heavier than Will is. He looks almost feral, but Will has never felt less scared in his life.

“Sorry,” Will breathes. “I… I don't know why I- it just happened. That time wasn't on purpose, I promise.”

“It's alright,” he answers, though he still looks like he’s struggling to focus. “I just need a moment, please, will you-”

“Of course.”

Will moves entirely out of reach, feeling terrible and aroused all at once. Yeah, there's  _ definitely _ an omegan reaction. He's going to do some actual research tomorrow. 

Eventually, Hannibal is looking more like himself again but he doesn't meet Will’s eyes again until he's outside, safely on the porch. 

“I'm going to call you the moment my car is parked,” Hannibal promises, looking at Will longingly. 

“I'll be waiting.”

“Please, don't fall asleep.”

“I won't. Trust me.”

Hannibal nods and walks down the stairs, glancing back at Will three separate times before he finally gets to his car. Then he's gone, and Will feels ridiculously cold.  

He spends the hour getting the dogs settled and getting himself ready for bed. He jerks off in the shower, thinking of the kiss and everything else, but mostly the feeling of Hannibal's teeth on his throat. After brushing his teeth and throwing on his sleeping clothes, he hears his phone ring just as he's getting in bed. 

“I had thirteen missed calls from Alana,” he says as he answers. 

“I have you beat, darling. Eighteen on my end.”

Will laughs, re-adjusting his pillow after plugging his phone into the charger. “I sent her a text and told her our bonding went fine and that our wedding date is set for next month. No response yet.” 

Hannibal is quiet for a moment. “If only to be a fly.”

Will grins. “I sent her another one to calm her down but I'm still kinda wishing I hadn't.” 

“I'm glad you did, for both our sake.” 

Will listens as Hannibal goes through whatever his nightly routine is, brushing his teeth and getting changed. 

“What do you sleep in?”

“It varies depending on the weather, and if I have company. Generally, silk pajamas. Tonight, nothing at all.”

Will can't stop his groan, shifting on the bed. “Is it your turn to torture me now?”

“Only honesty, I assure you. I'm feeling rather overheated. One moment and I'll switch to video.”

“Okay.”

Will bites his lip as he waits, feeling himself harden again for no reason at all except that Hannibal is going to be nude and that's apparently enough to peak his interest. A moment later, the request comes through and he accepts. 

“Hi,” he says dumbly, trying to take everything in all at once. 

“Hello, Will.”

Hannibal is stupidly gorgeous in his fancy suits with the ridiculous patterns. He's stunning in a silk robe and sleep ruffled hair in the early mornings. He's beautiful always but nothing,  _ nothing _ compares to him like this. 

Will can only see his bare chest, with the perfect amount of graying chest hair, and his face, those sharp cheekbones illuminated by the soft light coming from his side table. His hair is feathered across his brow, and God, he's unbelievable. Perfect. So entirely out of Will’s league, what the actual _ fuck. _

“Are you alright?”

Will swallows and rubs his face with his free hand, realizing he hasn't spoken for a solid thirty seconds. “Sorry. Just, sending out some good vibes to whoever the fuck granted me this streak of good luck.”

Hannibal smiles softly. “The fortune is entirely mine, darling. And as easy as it would be for me to simply sit here and look at you, I'd like you to sleep. You do have class in the morning.”

“Yes, dad, I know,” Will sighs dramatically. He turns over and props his phone up against the pillow next to him. “You're going to sleep, too, right?” 

“I'm going to read for a bit first but yes, I'm hoping to get some rest tonight.”

“What are you reading?” Will asks, burying his face in his pillow to cover a yawn. Hannibal answers but Will is already having trouble keeping his eyes open. Fucking encephalitis, he still tires so easily. “Will you read to me?”

“Of course. As long as you'd like.” 

Will barely even catches a paragraph before he's asleep, his mate's smooth voice filling his dreams. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-ed, please forgive any mistakes.

Will learns that there is, in fact, an omegan reaction to hyper-aggression. The omega, which would be him in this instance, will experience a number of things after triggering an Alpha. 

Increased submissiveness. Check.

Heightened levels of dependency. Check.

Paranoia or fear of abandonment. Check.

Increased arousal. Big check.

He feels tired today. Sluggish and drained. Which, if he remembers correctly, means he’ll be keyed up tomorrow, nesting and prepping for what he can only assume will be a days-long heat.

Frankly, Hannibal is out of his goddamned mind if he truly thinks Will is going through that alone.

He’ll be calling any minute. He had two patients to see today, though Will doubts he was able to provide them with any real therapy. Will, on the other hand, had to cancel his classes because he’s just so exhausted. It’s frustrating; he wants all of this to be over already. 

But he’s tried to picture what the  _ after _ is going to look like. He’s hell to live with, and Hannibal is finicky about his space, too. Hannibal has never seemed inclined to sell his home but Will certainly isn’t moving to the city.    
  
The dogs are non-negotiable as well, though he expects Hannibal knows that. For the life of him, he can’t picture Hannibal living in his house, in the middle of nowhere with a bed in the living room. 

The whole thing makes Will even more tired, so he closes his laptop and curls under the blanket, suddenly desperate for Hannibal to be in bed with him. He’s not used to craving comfort at all, let alone to the point of choking him. He texts him.

_ I know you’re working but you’re coming here after. Please? _

It goes to show Will’s state of mind that he’s not even embarrassed about sounding needy. Less than a minute later, he gets a response. 

_ I’m already on my way. Are you all right? _

_ Bad day. Don’t text and drive. _

Hannibal doesn’t respond again and Will doesn’t leave the bed until he hears the dogs barking about forty-five minutes later. Just walking to the door feels like a feat, and it’s eerily reminiscent of when he had encephalitis.

“I don’t smell sick again, do I?”

Hannibal steps through the door, a faint frown creasing his face. He leans in, scenting the air surrounding Will with a slow breath. His eyes close and he swallows, standing straight once more.

“No. Definitely not sick.” Hannibal clears his throat.

“Just checking.”

Hannibal touches his forehead anyway. “I’ve been told this is perfectly normal.”

“I know, I just… forgot how bad it was,” Will sighs, unable to keep himself from asking, “could you lay with me for awhile? I’ll be good for you, I promise.” 

Will realizes a second too late how that sounds; omegan submissiveness, the need to be obedient and appeal to his Alpha’s wants. How much it effects Hannibal becomes apparent immediately.

His jaw ticks and he inhales sharply. “Saying things like that-” 

“I know,” Will interjects. “It wasn’t on purpose. I’m just exhausted and I feel…” he shrugs, too tired to even explain. “I understand if you can’t.” 

“Of course I will,” Hannibal agrees, soft and gentle. Will wants to fit himself inside that sound and sleep for three days. “For as long as you need.”

“Or as long as you can bear it without, you know,” Will says as he all but drags Hannibal to the bed. He stops short, though, when he realizes how gross the sheets will be. He’s been in bed pretty much all day, sweating and feeling terrible. “Actually, you’ll probably want me to change the-” 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Hannibal insists, slipping off everything except his button down shirt and slacks. Will is still in his boxers and t-shirt, and he’s pretty sure Hannibal will be thankful they’re not skin to skin.    
  
They lay facing one another, Hannibal’s arm thrown over Will’s waist in a loose grip. Will watches as he takes a breath, then his eyes close and he turns his face into the pillow, breathing in deeply and holding it. 

Will smiles. “Ah. That’s why you didn’t want me to change the sheets.”    
  
“Heavenly,” Hannibal answers gruffly, slowly looking back at Will with dark eyes. “Exquisite.”    
  
“I said I’d be good,” Will responds around a rough swallow, feeling the low thrum of arousal in his veins in response to Hannibal visibly enjoying his scent. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”    
  
“Regrettably, no.” He pulls Will closer, brushing his lips over Will’s. “That doesn’t mean I cannot enjoy what I currently have within my reach. Your scent being at the top of that list.”    
  
“And pay no attention to the response in me from watching you.”    
  
“I can smell that, too,” Hannibal murmurs, voice gravelly and low. “But that particular scent is one that I will not allow myself to focus on. Yet.”    
  
Will shivers, curling further into him. “You’ve got about two seconds to change the subject…”

“You’re exhausted.”

“Not  _ that _ exhausted.”

Hannibal smiles softly for a moment, then sighs as he pulls back. “This entire situation is so foreign to me, it borders on the absurd.”

“Really? I do this shit twice a month,” Will deadpans.

Hannibal gets that fond look again, the one that turns Will’s insides into mush. “I only meant that I’ve gone many, many years without a lapse in control. I choose which emotion I want to feel, when I want to feel it. A skill that was forced upon me in my youth.”

“I know,” Will says quietly, touching Hannibal’s cheek for a moment. “I know something traumatic happened, something with your family.”

“Yes. They suffered a terrible fate that I narrowly escaped.” His voice is so matter-of-fact, so controlled, it makes Will’s heart ache in sympathy for how high that particular emotional wall must be. “I’ll tell you all about it someday.”

“When you’re ready,” Will replies. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Will has to kiss the relieved smile off of Hannibal’s face because he just has too. He can’t help it. It lasts until he feels Hannibal’s fingers clutching his hip tightly, and Will pulls back again. 

Hannibal’s brow is drawn, eyes closed tightly as he takes a slow, deep breath.

“Sorry,” Will whispers.

“Hush,” Hannibal says gently, opening his eyes once more. “Soon, I’ll be able to enjoy that as frequently as you’ll allow it, I hope.”

“I’m kind of touch-starved, so, expect ‘frequently’ to become ‘constantly.’”

Hannibal breathes a laugh but his hand hasn’t loosened on Will’s waist. If anything, it’s getting tighter. Will knows he should offer the man a reprieve, tell him to get up and go to the chair across the room, give him some distance. But he’s so warm and Will has missed him horribly, all day.

He covers Hannibal’s clenched fist. “I know this is difficult for you but thank you for being here with me.”

“There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be,” Hannibal replies, so sincere that it makes Will desperate to kiss him again. “Would you like to take a nap?”

“And leave you up alone? You’ll get bored.”

Hannibal blinks. “I assure you, I will not be bored.”

Will gives up the fight and presses another slow kiss to Hannibal’s lips before turning over, ensuring there’s space between their bodies but still close enough to keep Hannibal’s arm around him. He’s asleep in minutes.

 

*

 

Immediately, Will becomes aware of how his boxers are clinging to his thighs, how the air from the fan feels exceptionally cool against his overheated skin, and how damp his hair feels. But what forces his eyes open is the throbbing ache low in his belly, and the answering throb in his painfully hard cock.

“Alpha,” Will whimpers instinctively, his biology calling out for relief, but he prays he’s dreaming. It’s too soon, he was supposed to have a few more days. He hasn’t even made a nest yet. 

  
In answer, he feels a warm rush of slick, and he whimpers again when he realizes he’s going to have to drag himself up the stairs to the bedroom closet. It’s been years since he’s needed the silicone knot, having tucked it away in a box the moment he started suppressants, but he’ll never make it through this without it. 

“Will.”

Hannibal was there when he’d fallen asleep, Will now remembers. He opens his eyes to see Hannibal’s back. He’s across the room, facing away from Will with his face pressed to his forearm and braced against the bookshelf in the far corner. He’s shirtless, tan skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat, muscles coiled tightly beneath the surface.   
  
“Alpha,” Will groans, rolling his hips into the air, heat-drunk and desperate. “ _Please_. ”

More slick produces when Hannibal answers with a growl; it reverberates through Will’s bones even from across the room.

Without thought, he leans up on his elbow and strips his soaked shirt off, throws it to the floor as he listens to the creak of wood under Hannibal’s clenched fists. He wants that grip on his flesh, in his hair, wants Hannibal tearing him apart. Whatever it takes to ease the pain in his gut, to stop the fire in his veins.

He struggles with his boxers next, plastered to his skin with sweat and slick. His cocks bounces obscenely, already dripping, the head purple and swollen. God, it  _ hurts _ .

“Hannibal,” he groans, shivering and burning up all over at the same time. “Please. You have to help me.”

Palming his cock, he watches, mouth flooding with saliva as Hannibal rolls his shoulders, head tilting downward as he tenses all over. The line of his back is so intensely attractive, and the sight of his forearms bulging as he strains against the wood draws another drop of desire from Will’s cock.

“Will, I must leave,” Hannibal says, voice trembling. “I can’t be here.”

As if to entice, there’s another gush of slick between Will’s thighs, another involuntary groan from his throat. Whatever it takes to keep Hannibal from leaving. Distantly, he hears Winston bark from upstairs, and realizes Hannibal must’ve put them up when he recognized the signs of Will’s heat.

“Please,” Will breathes, shameless in his need, spreading his legs wide. “Please, don’t make me do this alone.”

Hannibal releases a heavy breath, a wounded noise leaving his mouth as he finally turns around. Will bites his lip at the look he gets. Hannibal looks ravenous, eyes dark and an almost snarl curling his top lip. There’s sweat on his brow, the most human Will has ever seen him and yet, somehow, more beast than man. Feral.

Fucking gorgeous.

“It’s okay,” Will says, willing to say or do anything, whatever Hannibal needs to hear. Will strokes his cock again, head falling back in pleasure for a moment until the ache blooms bright once more. “Fuck. Please.”

Hannibal walks toward him, brow furrowed and his lips pursed. He stops halfway between the bookshelf and the bed, physically fighting his own body, like fighting the force of a magnet. Growling lowly, he starts walking again, until he’s next to the bed.

He’s panting, like he’s been sprinting, and looks down at Will with an openly hungry expression. Will reaches out, wishing he had the strength to yank the man down, to take what he needs but he feels weak with lust, overcome with it. Instead, he licks his lips.

Hannibal kisses him, sighing against his mouth as he cups Will’s cheek, his fingertips digging into the space under Will’s jaw. Will breaks away to flip over onto his stomach, his ass in the air and his face pressed to the bed as he stares,  _ begs _ with his eyes and the little sounds he’s making.

“Hurts,” he whimpers. “So much, make it stop, please.”

“As do I,” Hannibal breathes, his voice low and full of broken glass. He scents the air around Will, eyes black and a fine tremor running through him. “I ache terribly, darling, I need to knot you.”

He sounds apologetic and regretful, like his mind has been made up, yet clearly still hesitant. Still warring with himself, despite his body all but forcing him to take and claim the needy omega crying out for him.

“Please, Alpha, it  _ hurts _ ,” Will cries, stomach clenching harshly. “Mount me, please,  _ please .” _

His cries fade into a moan when Hannibal grips his nape, gently, but Will can feel the restraint behind it, the barely tempered urgency. All he wants in the world is Hannibal inside, nails digging bloody into his hips and sharp teeth in his neck. Wants every shred of Hannibal’s meticulous control obliterated. Wants to be fucked and used and filled to bursting.

A whine pours from him when he hears Hannibal’s slacks slip to the floor, and he spreads his knees wide, arching his back further. Anticipation builds in his chest, goosebumps breaking out across his flesh as Hannibal climbs up behind him, running his large, searing hot palm over Will’s sticky back.

“Forgive me,” Hannibal groans, agonized, as he presses the tip of his cock to Will’s messy hole.

Will shakes his head incoherently, shoving himself back to force Hannibal inside as quickly as possible, and moans loudly in relief when his Alpha bottoms out.

“Yes, yes,” Will babbles, flushed and aching, clawing at the damp sheets beneath him.

Hannibal leans over him, covering Will, strong and fierce as he starts to thrust, his lips grazing Will’s shoulder. Will blanks out, obscene noises filling the room as the ache in his stomach changes from one of pain to one of pleasure. He can feel Hannibal everywhere, smell the need blanketed around them, hear the rumbling groans pressed to his skin.

It’s fucking perfect, everything,  _ everything _ he’s wanted and craved. He shivers when Hannibal slides his fingers into Will’s hair, tugging backward until Will’s neck is a sharp arch.

“Mine,” Hannibal growls, igniting Will from the inside. “My mate.”

Will is already going to come, his hole clenching tightly around Hannibal’s length. Nothing has ever felt this good, his limbs shaking as he drives his hips backward, meeting Hannibal at every thrust.

“Alpha,  _ my Alpha _ , knot me, please,” Will begs, panting as he clenches his eyes shut, cock twitching between his legs. The head catches on the sheet every time he’s pushed forward, and he already feels overstimulated.

Hannibal growls again, rough and deep as he fucks Will faster, opening his mouth against the back of Will’s neck. Will feels teeth and his ears fill with white noise.

“I’m gonna come,” Will cries, feeling the pressure build rapidly, stealing his breath with the need to be bitten. Claimed.  _ Mated . _

Hannibal releases a helpless noise, pounding harder, one hand covering Will’s on the bed and the other twisting in Will’s hair. It’s fucking glorious, overwhelming, heady and gluttonous. Hannibal’s teeth scrape the thin flesh on Will’s nape.

Then Hannibal pulls Will’s hair _ ,  hard ,  _ his hips stuttering with pleasure and Will shouts, “Hannibal,” coming with painful intensity beneath Hannibal’s onslaught.

  
Hannibal bites.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, there's more porn to come. Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
